


Lion's Den

by Vizkopa



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 14:50:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vizkopa/pseuds/Vizkopa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Now tell me, Kirschtein, what are you doing in the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just a Bit of Fun

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters 2 and 3 of this fic are exclusive to AO3 as they were removed from DeviantART for stupid reasons.

You awoke to the sound of soft shuffling footsteps. Peering through the darkness, you could see the faint outline of a male form standing over you. Even in the dark, you could recognise that figure anywhere.

He reached toward you, not realising you were awake, and before he knew it you had taken hold of his arm and flipped him onto your bed, pinning him against the mattress with your knees. You clamped one hand tightly around his wrists and held them above his head.

“Mother _fu_ -” he began but you pressed your other hand against his mouth, bringing your lips close to his ear to shush him. You felt a shudder go through him as your [h/c] hair tickled his cheek. You smirked, lifting your head to listen for any signs of stirring from the girls around you. There were none. You returned your attention to the boy between your thighs.

“Do you _want_ to wake a room full of sleeping women trained in martial arts?” you whispered.

After a moment, he shook head and you removed your hand from his mouth.

“Now tell me, _Kirschtein_ , what are you doing in the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night?” Your voice was dripping with false sweetness, breath cool against his ear. You felt his breath hitch in his throat at the sensation. You could almost hear the cogs turning as he struggled to come up with an answer. Cursing under his breath, he gave up, and you could feel the heat rising from his face. 

“It was dare, ok?” He whispered harshly. “I was supposed to prank you all.”

You laughed softly. “Honest to a fault as usual, Jean. And whose brilliant idea was it to prank girls who could all kick your asses?”

The heat from his face intensified, and you swore you could almost see the pink glow of his skin through the darkness. 

“Jaeger’s,” he muttered.

You had to press you hand against your own mouth to stifle the laughter that threatened to escape. “Jaeger? If it had been Reiner I wouldn’t have been surprised, but _Jaeger_? He knows better than anyone what we’re capable of.”

“That’s why he dared _me_.” He cursed again. “Get off me, will you?” He squirmed beneath you, trying to free himself, but you only pressed him harder into the mattress.

“Not so fast. There’s still the issue of payback.”

Jean stopped struggling and stared at you through the gloom. “Payback? But I didn’t do anything! You caught me before I could-”

You shushed him with a finger to his lips. “You woke me up. That deserves a special kind of punishment, wouldn't you say?”

“P-punishment?” he stuttered as you slowly began to unbutton his shirt, each movement revealing another sliver of his wiry chest.

“Mhm,” you hummed as your fingers fanned across his exposed abs. They tensed beneath your exploring hands as he gasped, too distracted to realise you had released his hands. 

“It’s my turn to have some fun,” you purred, skimming your lips across his chiseled jaw and down his neck, nipping and biting as you went, each one leaving a small purple mark, and inciting a moan from Jean.

“This is supposed to be punishment?” he panted. You could practically see the smirk plastered against his face. You shushed him by pressing your mouth to his.

“It will be,” you said simply when your lips parted. You could see the confused look on his face as a sliver of moonlight illuminated the room. And with that, you began to move, rocking your hips back and forth gently, causing Jean to writhe beneath you. He reached up to grasp your waist but you froze, catching his wrists before his hands could touch you.

“No, no, no. You don’t get to touch. Do I have to tie you up?” 

His grin grew wider. “If you like,” he growled.

You clicked your tongue at him. “Not necessary. Your hands stay here, or I’ll kick your ass.” You pressed his hands into the pillow above his head, where they obediently stayed, and continued your ministrations. It wasn’t long before you had him writhing under your touch once more.

It was when you were trailing biting kisses down his muscled chest that you felt it. You froze and smirked. _Ah, there it is._ You looked up at Jean through half lidded eyes and grinned. His face flushed crimson in the moonlight and he squirmed uncomfortably. That only made the "issue" worse.

Having succeeded, you rolled off him. “I’m tired. You can go now.”

He gaped at you. “But-” His blush deepened even more. “You’re really going to leave me like this?” Disappointment permeated his words.

“It wouldn’t be a punishment if I didn’t.” You winked.

“That’s not f-” You shushed him by giving him a short, chaste kiss.

“Well next time, Think Twice about entering the lion's den.”


	2. Revenge

Jean bore the marks of your “punishment” for days afterwards. No one knew the culprit, and you felt a small sense of pride in your work whenever the whispers and laughter that followed him caused a light blush to appear on his cheeks.

He had treated you differently since then. Whenever you were close he seemed flustered and avoided your eyes. It was adorable, really, and your pride only grew at the knowledge of what you could do to him. 

But there was something in the way he looked at you when no one else was around – something dark, mischievous. You suspected some serious Jean-brand revenge was heading your way soon, but you were certainly not expecting it to come in the form it did… 

You could feel his honey eyes boring into you from the opposite side of the dining hall. You ignored him, but decided to give him a show all the same. You scooped up a spoonful of stew and lifted it to your lips, blowing gently on the liquid even though it was already quite cool. Then you place the tip of the spoon in your mouth and turned to face the boy. You locked you [e/c] eyes with his, and ever so slowly pulled the spoon from your mouth, sucking on it with soft, wet lips. You licked your lips seductively afterward, and you noticed Jean stiffen. His eyes narrowed. _I know what you’re doing_ , they said.

Lowering your eyes slightly so you were looking at him through your lashes, you picked up a small bread roll from your plate, and placed the end of it on your mouth. Jean stood abruptly, his face red and strode from the hall, not giving you a second glance. You chuckled to yourself as he left. _It’s so easy_. You happily went back to your meal, oblivious to the fact that some of the other boys has noticed your exchange and were now discreetly covering their crotches…

You began to make your way back to the girls’ dorm after dinner, but before you could take more than two steps you felt a hand close around your wrist. You gave a small scream as you were tugged into a shadowy corner.

“Shhh! If Shadis find us he’ll have our heads.” You recognised that voice.

“Jean! What are you-?” He grasped your shin in his calloused hands and pressed his lips against yours, effectively shutting you up. It was rough, wanting, his mouth hungrily devouring yours. His other hand curled around your waist, pulling you closer to his heated body. When you finally broke apart, you could see the fire in his gaze. He leaned in close, curling his long fingers in you [h/c] hair, and brought his lips to your ear.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

You simply smirked at him. He shook his head.

“What am I saying? Of course you do. Always the tease, [Name].”

“Admit it,” you said. “You love it.”

Jean laughed softly, nuzzling the side of your neck. “I do. So much so that I’m going to return the favour.”

He kissed your neck, sucking on the tender skin beneath your ear. You shuddered slightly, biting your lip to stop your gasp of pleasure from escaping. Like hell you were going to let him know you actually enjoyed this. But he had felt you shudder, and he smirked into your skin.

“Payback time,” he said, and before you could react he was kissing you again, forcing his tongue past your lips. One hand held you close against him, gripping your backside, while the other found its way up your shirt, caressing you beneath the thin fabric. 

His lips trailed across your jawline and down to your neck again, teeth grazing your skin. He bit down gently, causing you to moan softly. That only spurred him on. He pushed you back, sandwiching you between his body and the hard wall behind you, his attack on your neck not abating in the least. 

“Jean…” you gasped as he pressed his thigh between your legs, causing your bodies to grind together blissfully. You could feel him smirking confidently against your neck, while you had been reduced to a moaning mess. Your hands trailed over his chest and began to lift his shirt slightly, but he stopped you, catching your wrists in one strong hand.

“Oh no, you don’t get to touch.” He smirked. That phrase sounded awfully familiar. He used one hand to pin your arms above your head and continued his ministrations.

He began rocking his hips into yours, creating delicious friction between the two of you. You whimpered in pleasure, and he nibbled your collarbone as you arced into him with each movement. Soon you were panting, trying to stifle the moans that were continually threatening to escape. You wanted more. So much more. You mewled, trying to express your longing.

Jean suddenly stopped, a smirk plastered across his face. “Lion? More like a kitten.”

And with that he walked away, leaving you flustered and breathless in the cool night air.


	3. Truce

Jean _fucking Kirschtein_. He fought dirty – almost as dirty as you did – and you were becoming increasingly frustrated with him, and he with you. You both knew what you wanted, but you were both too stubborn to admit it. But now it was time for all of it to finally end, and you were going to end it on your terms, so help you god. You would not be the one to cave.

You waited silently, hidden in the storage closet in the hall to the boys’ dorm. You knew Jean had to pass through here at some point, and it was only a matter of time before you heard the sharp clacking of leather boots against the wooden floor. You could recognise those footfalls anywhere.

Jean gave a yelp as you pulled him into the closet, locking the door swiftly behind you and turning to glare at him, your arms crossed.

“What the fuck are you-?”

“We need to talk.”

“Flying the white flag are we?” he smirked.

“Far from it. This has gone on long enough, Jean. I want to call a truce.” You unfolded your arms and offered a hand to him. You were suddenly well aware of just how small the closet was, and how close the two of you were forced to stand.

He looked blankly at your offered hand, and then grinned. “So you _are_ giving up. What’s the matter? Too hot for you to handle?”

“Just shut up and accept,” you said irritably.

He continued to watch you, amused. “What’s in it for me?”

“Accept it and find out,” you said in your most seductive voice. You heard his breath hitch in his throat as his honey eyes wandered over your body. He clasped you hand in his and shook it.

“I guess we’re even,” he said.

“No,” you said, much to his confusion. You brought your foot back and brought it down on his shin with a loud THWACK!

“Fuck, [Name]!” he cursed as he fell to the floor, clutching his shin.

“ _Now_ we’re even.” You gave him the sweetest smile you could muster, before turning to unlock the door. Before you could, you felt a tug at you wrist, and you found yourself stumbling backward towards the floor and into a pair of wiry arms.

Jean’s smug face loomed close to yours, his weight pressing down on you from above.

“Now, about that truce…” he said, trailing his warm tongue from your collarbone to your cheek, making your body ache with need. “I don’t think just a handshake will suffice.”

You smirked. “I couldn’t agree more.”

You gripped the collar of his shirt roughly in your hand and pulled him down onto your lips. He responded eagerly, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. It was rough, primal – you had both been waiting so long for this.

Clumsy, aching fingers began hastily unbuttoning his shirt, brushing gently against his tanned chest with each small movement. He gasped into your mouth as you pushed the cloth from his shoulder along with his jacket and cast them aside. You pulled him closer, longing to feel his skin against yours, and he parted your knees gently, settling between your thighs, and pressed his hips tightly against your own.

You could feel his length already hardening and you moaned at the friction it created as he rocked his hips into yours. You felt his long fingers at your collar, efficiently popping the buttons one by one to reveal the soft skin beneath. You shuddered as those fingers trailed down your chest, between your breasts and across your stomach, to your sides where they gripped hard as another thrust left you aching for more.

In one swift movement, you flipped him over. Straddling him, you looked down at him, his face flushed and pupils dilated.

“No backing out now, Kirschtein,” you said breathlessly.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” he replied, a grin plastered across his face.

Your eyes never leaving his, you slid the shirt from your shoulders, reaching behind you to unclasp you bra. You tossed it away along with the shirt, and watched Jean’s eyes widen as he took in your uncovered body. His hands shot up to cup your breasts, massaging gently, driving you insane. You were both panting by now, the air around you growing warm, almost suffocating.

Jean sat up, pressing his chest against your own, and finding your neck with his lips. His bit gently, teeth grazing your collarbone.

“Do you have _any_ idea what you do to me?” he growled.

“Some,” you smirked, grinding your hips once, painfully slow. He groaned and soon you found yourself beneath him again, writhing in pleasure under his fevered touches and wet lips. Before long, he had discarded your pants, along with his own, and in one frenzied movement he was inside you.

You moaned at the sensation, wrapping your arms about him and entangling your fingers tightly in his copper blonde hair, pulling him closer, deeper, inviting him to cure that dull, longing ache you had felt for so long. He groaned softly in your ear as he pulled out to thrust into you again, harder, faster. You arched your back as his lips found your nipple, fighting the urge to cry out his name, instead uttering it as a moan. 

“Ah, fuck,” he gasped, his movements quickening.

You kept pace with each thrust, rolling your hips in time to his, until they became lazy, irregular as he drew closer to his end. He gripped your hips tightly as he finished, one last thrust sending you over the edge with him.

He pressed his forehead against yours, the both of you panting heavily. He pulled out.

“I think I’m going to like this truce,” he said breathlessly.

“You’d better, because I’m not done with you yet.” You grinned mischievously. “Feeling up to round two?”


End file.
